The Rainbow King

           THE RAINBOW KING

             KARL WALLACE                                           

Many, many years ago, my best friend
Placed a Rainbow on my front step,
A beautiful five pound over weight Rainbow,
Wrapped with the daily newspaper.

He rang the doorbell and when I answered

He began to slowly unwrap the newspaper  
Layer after layer exposing
The Rainbow at the obituaries page.

My excitement was hard to contain as it had been

Building from sports section on.
 “Wow!
And there lay the Rainbow.

Where did you get that?"

“On the Snake River below Twin Falls,”
“Are you going to have it mounted?”

“No, I’m giving it to you.”

How happy I was and my family too

When we ate the fish that is no more.
Many years have passed since 
The Rainbow is no more.

I have thought of its beauty,

And wondered if I should have

Had him mounted

For mortals to see.

I wonder now how the rainbow

Might have felt as it was dragged

Fighting out of the drink.

Did anyone care on the day he expired?

When the bright autumn leaves

Were falling in spring; the water ran high

The stars came out with the clouds about.

Did anyone notice the king not there?

Could it be fish have a family tree?

If that be true a family clan might mourn all night

After they lost their patriarch.

Did anyone care at the time?

Did the fish king kids know

Their dad had chased a pike away

To save their lives for another day?

Did anyone care?

Any day when his kids were in school

Were they told of the spawn?

On the day they were born

Did anyone care at the time?

The king worked and performed

Their mother all worn until her eggs

Were gone and they were born

Did anyone care at the time?

O’ Powerful God of river control, did he

Have to leave his friends just then?

Did he have to be for fisherman to fish?
Did anyone care? 

Did anyone care at the time?

Is there a tree at the edge of the river’s flow

With a bird still sadly warbling his passing?

Are the hawks perched and waiting    

                               

 For the sound of the kings evening thrashing  

Are the limbs of bushes at the water’s edge

Where rainbows like to rest, reminiscing?

Do they look and wonder why the king’s still away?

The farmers still plow and haul hay.

Where the king with his shimmering spots
Swam near the farm nd of man
Did anyone care at the time?

The cedar trees, the spruce pines stand straight and still,

Intertwined now and again with the water willows.

Did they have knowledge of the death near their side?

Or were they unaware of the whole affair?

Had man left the mighty Snake alone,

Not damned or fished or changed these fishes home;

Could my king fish by now have made a Roman legion

With splendid migrations to all the ocean’s regions?

Back again to the river tributaries

To make more jumping prodigy.

Being a prowling crew you would see trout dash

From rapids to still water flows.

The animals at least must be a little aware.

Bears coming on to participate in the show,

The eagles would fly small birds chirping in air

The magnificent scene is anyones dream.

Fishing for sport, catching fish with glee

I would like to know.

Has anyone cared in the end?

Does anyone care at all?